Look at this. It almost looks like my old Xanga. Almost.

...maybe there's hope for this blog after all.

oh no oh no oh no oh no no no

i get it. i get the dream i had. and i hate hate hate that after all that i am still the same creature and that things had to be as they are because i could have been so different and it would not have been a problem and it is because of the mask BECAUSE I AM NEVER GOING TO COME AROUND AND BE WHAT I ALWAYS FEEL I AM. there will be no trotting away over the sand because all i can do is sit tight and know and shiver along with the rest of them, knowing i am a sham. and knowing that even if i were real, i would be repelled.

i want to smash something into his face. a bottle, maybe.

Today at work I made someone laugh while they were eating, and she started choking on her food. This incident somehow turned into a discussion of how, if we got to choose, we would each like to go.

Three chose vehicular misadventure.

One wanted to choose the peaceful death-while-sleeping route, but we persuaded her that this is illogical as she is young and healthy and unlikely to die in her sleep unless there is some underlying cause. She changed her ideal end to a wasting disease like cancer so that everyone would be kind and sympathetic and do things for her until she finally died.

One started out thinking he would like to be the victim of a homicide, with the weapon being a grass hook.

(Basically, a baby scythe.)
He changed his mind though, and said he'd like his end to be by way of morbid obesity, with particular blame placed on iced cream.

One would choose an aneurism.

One would choose to go by way of a perfect headshot.

One would choose to be the victim of predation by a bear.

I really feel like I learned a lot about my coworkers today. Namely, that they actually have given some thought to this idea, and have ways that they genuinely favour (however unlikely) for their own ends.

And funny thing...despite the unspoken agreement that I would, if we had such a thing, win the award for most morbid topic brought up in the office, nobody asked me how I wanted to go.